A Modern-Day ByaHime Story
by untamed.thoughts
Summary: Kuchiki Byakuya and Inoue Orihime live in the same metropolis. He is a successful workaholic and she is a distinguished psychiatrist. How do their paths cross, and can she thaw his cold demeanor? (Rating is subject to change as the story progresses.)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This random plot came to me on a whim; I decided to let the thoughts out and write a pilot chapter. I've mapped out the rest of the story and predict it'll be about 10 chapters long, (maybe less). Please let me know what you think. To continue or abandon? .. That's my question today. =)

* * *

Kuchiki Byakuya leaned back in his leather chair, crossing one long leg over the other upon his mahogany office desk. With two fingers, he tugged at the knot of his silk tie to loosen its hold. It had been a long day to say the least. Swiveling around to look outside the floor to ceiling window, he surveyed the city lights that dotted the landscape below him. He sighed. Another day had come and gone; time no longer affected him. Bending down, he reached for his lower drawer to retrieve a bottle of Macallan, aged a quarter-century. To his dismay, it was empty. Just his luck.

 _Bzzz. Bzzz._

He turned his phone over to see his sister's text: _Don't forget to call her. You promised!_

Digging around his coat pocket, he fished out the business card. He stared at it, reading and rereading the four lines of information imprinted upon its surface. He had no desire to call the number listed. In fact, it was the last thing that he wanted to do at that precise moment. But, he had promised Rukia that he would. Groaning, he regretted having agreed to such a thing. However, at the time, Rukia had threatened him with abandoning her studies if he did not comply. He looked to his left, gazing wistfully at the framed picture of his late wife. His heart still ached for her. It had been six years since her passing. Their marriage had been brief due to her illness and she had left him without any children. In spite of their short time together, he cherished each and every one of their few memories. Life had become a blur for him after her death. He immersed himself with work and ignored all other facets of life. Some might even say that he stopped living without her. Then, it happened; two nights ago, he drove his car into a lamppost, totalling it. Nothing short of a miracle, he had emerged from the wreck completely unscathed, save for a few cuts and scrapes. The police had assumed that he had been driving under the influence, but in the end, it was discovered that he had been up for the past 38 hours, sustaining purely on coffee and Red Bull.

 _Bzzz. Bzzz._

Rukia: _Did you call yet?_

He sighed again. His sister was persistent, if nothing else. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, remembering their last conversation. Even though he had not notified her of his accident, she had found out on a gossip blog and rushed home to see him. He had been angry at her, scolding her for being irresponsible and impulsive, but she had retorted that he was now her last living family member. Rukia had already put her research on hold the year immediately after her sister's parting; she was so close to finishing her dissertation now. He had wanted her back at school, at any cost. Thus, when she had demanded that he see a shrink or she would indefinitely put her academic pursuits on hold, he had had no choice but to concede. However, he had not anticipated that she would actually follow up on that request. Before returning to her university, she had given him the business card of a psychiatrist that was known for her patience and discretion. Being a public figure, the latter was especially important to him. He glanced at the time: _11:54 p.m._ Rukia had clearly forgotten to factor in the time difference between them. He picked up his phone to respond.

Byakuya: _It's almost midnight here. I'll call tomorrow._

Rukia: _You were supposed to call TODAY!_

Byakuya: _I was busy._

Rukia: _I'm booking a flight home._

Byakuya: _I promise to call tomorrow. Get back to work._

Rukia: _You better! Good night._

He flipped his phone back over. What a pain. He did not understand the need to see a doctor. It was unnecessary for a total stranger to diagnose him; he knew exactly what was wrong with himself. Then again, maybe he could get a prescription for something strong to put him out. His insomnia had gotten worse, not better, after the crash. Before the accident, a glass of red wine had sufficed to ease him into a restless slumber, but nowadays, even Scotch was not doing the trick. Fine, he would call tomorrow.

* * *

"Good morning! Dr. Inoue's office," a cheerful voice sounded on the other line.

"I'd like to book an appointment." He wanted to hang up, but willed himself to make good on his promise.

"Are you an existing patient?"

"No."

"I'm sorry, but you need a referral to see Dr. Inoue. Please have your physician fax us. We will call you to set up an initial visit when we receive the proper paperwork."

Byakuya's jaw dropped. He really had not expected this. Who was this doctor and why was she so special? However, he was now intrigued. Growing up in one of the most powerful families of the city, he had been denied very little. Trying to quell his rising agitation with the situation, he reminded himself that the receptionist had had no idea who he was. But, that was the point, though. He did not actually want to be identified, not when he was going to see a quack. He picked up his phone again to reach his personal assistant.

"Renji, connect me to Dr. Unohana."

"Yes sir, right away."

* * *

Three months. Byakuya had waited three months to get a meeting with Dr. Inoue. He had not yet met her, but already, he was skeptical about her professionalism. How effective could she be if she was not accessible? Checking his watch again, he could feel his little patience fading. Five minutes. He was ready to give her a piece of his mind. There was no doubt that his time was more valuable than hers was. He was about to get up to leave when a redhead came to retrieve him.

"Mr. Kuchiki, is it?" She smiled at him and he had to admit, she was not unpleasant to look at.

He nodded, expressionless.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Inoue Orihime. You can call me whatever makes you comfortable."

"Thank you for seeing me, Dr. Inoue." He went for the least personal way to address her. After all, he had had no intentions of seeing her again.

"How are you today, Mr. Kuchiki?"

He blinked at her. Was she serious? He was getting billed per hour and she was asking him about his day? He suppressed a scoff and decided to get to the point.

"I'm having trouble sleeping. Can you include refills in the prescription? I don't have time to keep coming back. Your waiting list is quite ridiculous." His tone was not rude, but devoid of any emotion, it came across rather cold and condescending.

"Well, let's start there then. Why can't you sleep?" Completely ignoring his request, she continued on with a bright smile across her face.

"That's none of your business."

"You're right. It's not. It's yours. It's also keeping you from sleeping. So, let's talk about it. Maybe you won't need pills."

"I'd rather not talk about it." He gave her a stern look, signaling finality.

"Okay, so let's talk about something else. Anything else. You pick." Her smile had not faltered.

He had had enough. He stood up abruptly and crossed the room to the door.

"Mr. Kuchiki, our session isn't over yet." She rose to her feet, but did not follow him.

"I'll pay the full amount, don't worry." Without turning back, he walked out.

Orihime watched the door swing shut after the proud Kuchiki. Exhaling, she lowered herself back onto her plush armchair. Although trained and well-versed to handle different personalities, she found Byakuya's type the most taxing to deal with. As a psychiatrist, she focused on the reasons behind his attitude and actions, but now off the clock, she found him... Disagreeable. However, the doctor in her reminded her of his loss. She really could not fault a grieving man for his anti-social inclinations. The death of Kuchiki Hisana had been a very public event that was press-covered for an extended period of time. She sighed. As much as she would have liked to help him, there was no way that she could if he did not welcome it. She picked up his file from her desk and chucked it into the locked document shredding container. Their initial meeting had been a total failure and he had not signed the patient-doctor agreement; as far as she could tell, she would not see him again.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** : Thank you for your feedback! =) Here's the second chapter. I know what you're thinking... Why is this looking like an IchiHime fic? I assure you, it's a ByaHime story! (But it's really hard to write any Bleach fic without the inclusion of the main character. hehe..)

* * *

"I did as you asked." The poised man closed his eyes, fatigue shadowing his otherwise handsome face.

Against his wishes, his sister-in-law had flown home _again_ to "check up on him". Picking her up from a late flight, they had opted to eat inside of the airport at a ramen shop. Patrons sat along a row of stools at one wall; she sat to his right, and a stranger sat to his left. Rukia spun to face him.

"You didn't even stay! You went back on your word!"

Byakuya did not mind being accused of being distant, entitled, even mean, but to challenge his integrity was crossing a line, and it hit a sensitive nerve.

"Rukia, I waited three months to see her. It's not my fault that Inoue Orihime was a disappointment. She's unprofessional and ditzy. It wouldn't have mattered if I had stayed."

Unbeknownst to the two, a certain strawberry blonde had been sitting in the seat beside them and she had overheard the entire conversation. At first, it was just fodder for entertainment as she wolfed down her meal by herself, but when she heard the name, her rage surged.

"How dare you slander my friend!" She slammed her hands down onto the table for emphasis.

"It's rude to eavesdrop on other people's conversations," Byakuya retorted in a level voice.

"It's ruder to make false accusations of someone you don't even know!"

"Ma'am, I'm so sorry about my brother. He didn't mean to-"

"No, Rukia, don't apologize. I meant every word." He gave the stranger an icy look that signaled that he would not be taking back anything that he had said.

"You were lucky she saw you at all! She's an amazing doctor, and I would know because I used to be a patient. Orihime is the most kind-hearted person that I know. You would've found out for yourself, had you bothered to give her a chance. Oh, and for your information, the wait is long because she devotes all of her time to her existing patients. She doesn't take on new patients unless another one has finished treatment." She stormed off, not giving them the chance to respond.

* * *

Loud music blared in the background and the smell of alcohol, sweat, and potent perfume assaulted her olfactory senses. Colourful lights flashed across in random patterns, distorting faces and creating an atmosphere of anonymity. Already, she regretted her decision to accept her friends' invitation out. However, it wasn't often that she got to see them, as they were flight attendants. She glanced over at Momo and Rangiku. While her darker haired friend seemed to be as uncomfortable as she was, it looked like the strawberry blonde was having the time of her life. Swaying her hips to the music, it was apparent that she had every male in her proximity hypnotized. She did not have to ask whose idea it was to come to this place.

"Ichigo!" Rangiku waved at someone in the crowd.

As the tall male emerged from the dancing masses, Orihime felt her cheeks ablaze. She tried to convince herself that the heat was due to the alcohol, but she suspected that it had more to do with seeing her high school crush again. Ichigo's bright orange locks were shorter now, and his long limbs had filled out considerably with even more muscle. Still, she had long since abandoned the childhood infatuation. But, she had spent half a decade pining for this man. What was that saying again? Right, old habits die hard. She gave him a shy smile as he joined them. After a round of shots, she was at ease again and conversations flowed naturally between them.

"Captain!" Suddenly, Rangiku left them, calling after someone at the bar.

The group watched as the femme fatale approached a baby-faced, silver-haired man sitting by himself. She greeted him in a familiar manner, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him into her cleavage in a tight squeeze. Although his cheeks went red, they noted that his features remained stoic. In fact, he looked kind of annoyed. Orihime could not help but think of Byakuya; she remembered him having a similar expression. Was this the male equivalent of the female resting bitch face? Her thoughts returned to Rangiku. Once a patient grieving the death of her fiancé, she had certainly come a long way in her recovery. No longer depressed, the flirty woman exuded life and gaiety. Then again, it had been years since she had overcome her loss. It was by sheer act of fate that they bumped into each other again and became the best of friends. They could not hear the words exchanged between her and the "Captain", but Rangiku returned shortly, slightly pouting.

"Don't ask," she said, before anyone could.

The rest of the night had been mostly uneventful. When Rangiku became unable to stand anymore, it was time to call it quits. Momo lived closest to her, so she volunteered to take her home. Orihime had insisted that she could get back on her own, but Ichigo, being the gentleman that he was, had refused to let her get into the cab alone.

Exiting the taxi, the pair inhaled the fresh air, and reveled in the silence of the deserted streets. He walked her to the door of her brownstone and shuffled his feet as she searched her purse for keys. His breath hitched when she dropped the metal bunch and bent over to pick them up. His eyes fixated on her curvaceous bottom and he had to pinch himself over the bridge of his nose to prevent a nosebleed. He had not been immune to her blossoming beauty in the years following high school. In fact, he had purposely put distance between them so that he would not screw up their friendship. But, now, standing just behind her, so close that he could smell and identify her brand of shampoo, he was intoxicated by her bashful smiles, enticing body, and cute clumsiness.

"H-Hey, Inoue?"

"Uh-huh?" She looked over her shoulder and was surprised to see Ichigo blushing at her.

"Do you maybe want to grab coffee sometime?"

"Sure, I'd love to." She gave him a big smile, thinking nothing of it.

* * *

Byakuya tapped his long fingers absentmindedly upon his desk. He was back at work again, having dropped off Rukia at home. In truth, there were no impending business affairs to attend to, but he had had a clouded mind and needed some space and quiet to comb through his thoughts. It was just his luck to run into someone who knew Dr. Inoue. If he had to be completely honest, he had not really thought that badly of her; he had just wanted to get Rukia off his back. Still, he probably should not have run his mouth. _Inoue Orihime_... He tried to recall their brief meeting, but found it hard to remember any of the specific words exchanged between them. Perhaps the blonde had had a point; he had never given her a real chance. He shook his head, raking his hand through his long, dark locks. There was no reason to give her a chance; he did not need her help. He just needed a good night's rest. Closing his eyes, he leaned back in his tall leather chair and tried to picture Hisana. Instead, he saw large, round grey eyes, burnt orange hair and a smile that could rival the sun. His eyes snapped open and his eyebrows knitted. His jaw twitched as he realized that he had subconsciously conjured up the face of the bubbly psychiatrist.


	3. Chapter 3

"How do you take your coffee?" Ichigo asked over his shoulder.

"Just a touch of cream and lots of sugar, please," the cheerful healer replied with a big smile.

The pair moved to some armchairs in the café's back corner. Wearing a basic muscle tee and dark denim, the taller male passed the petite woman her drink once she was settled into the plush cushions. He eyed her as she took a tentative sip of the dark liquid. Unwittingly, he licked his lips when his gaze fell to her plump, full ones. As per usual, she was modestly dressed, wearing a sweatshirt and faded jeans that hid her delectable figure.

"Be careful. It's hot," he heard himself cautioning, almost reflexively.

A part of him felt conflicted about his attraction towards the redhead. Since they were kids, he had protected her like a younger sister. He was always aware of her beauty, but he had never been so moved by it to pursue her romantically. After so long, it was like a buried attraction that he dared not touch. Now, he questioned his motives for seeking her out for "coffee". Was he simply rekindling an old friendship? His brows came together as he pondered his feelings for her, totally unaware that she was now looking curiously at him as he battled himself.

"Hey, Kurosaki?" Her voice snapped him back to the present.

He gulped, suddenly very cognizant of how distant they were; she was still referring to him by his surname, just like in their childhood.

"Sorry about that. Was lost in thought. You, um, still call me Kurosaki." He rubbed the back of his neck compulsively.

Orihime's eyes widened as she blushed a pretty shade of coral. It had never occurred to her that she had not switched over to using his first name in all of the years that she had known him. By now, one would think that they would be on a first name basis. For goodness sake, he had seen her when she had had that hideous haircut with the fringe bangs. However, even the _idea_ of using his given name flustered her.

"I'm just teasing you. My bad," he added quickly, when he saw her face redden, and she began to mumble incoherently.

Orihime was still conversing with the blue aliens in her head when Ichigo suddenly rose from his seat, spotting a familiar face behind her. He recognized the tall male from his signature long, silky black hair and perpetually cold, distant expression.

"Byakuya!"

Orihime jumped at the sound of the name. Craning her neck around the back of her chair, she saw the very man approaching. Although subtle, she was sure that she saw a hint of disdain in his eyes when he noticed her.

"Hey, Inoue, this is my good friend's brother, Kuchiki Byakuya." He strode over and put his hand over the stoic man's shoulder.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Inoue Orihime," she said politely, standing to greet him with an extended hand.

He froze, completely unprepared for her reaction to him. The moment he saw her, he had begun devising his defence for some anticipated choice words from her. After all, there was no way that that stranger had not told her "friend" about their encounter at the ramen booth, right? In fact, Rangiku had indeed informed Orihime of what she had overheard at the airport. However, Orihime had not been surprised, and not being a petty person, had simply asked her to keep that information to herself. If their initial meeting was any indication, Orihime knew exactly what Byakuya thought of her. Still, she refused to fault the grieving man.

"Nice to meet you," he finally responded, giving her small hand an awkward shake.

"I can't believe I'm bumping into you at a coffee shop. Don't you have servants for this kind of stuff?"

"Hey, Asshat! The proper term is _assistant._ " An even taller redheaded stranger came up behind the two, giving Ichigo a playful shove.

"Po-tay-to, po-tat-to. Assistants don't work on Sundays. Anyway, this _servant_ here is Abarai Renji." Ichigo jerked his thumb in Renji's direction.

Annoyed by the jostling pair, Byakuya removed Ichigo's hand from his shoulder and stalked off toward the exit. He had really wanted to retort with, _'Successful people_ work on Sundays _'_ , but decided that it was not worth the hassle.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Abarai." Orihime could not help but giggle as the two grown males pushed each other back and forth like little boys.

"It's _Renji_ , and the pleasure's all mine." He took her hand and gave it a small peck over her knuckles.

 _Thunk_ \- The sound of Ichigo's elbow making contact with the top of the tattooed gentleman's skull.

"What the hell was that for!"

"Don't be smart. And your master's left you."

"Shit! I gotta go. Later! It was nice to meet you, Orihime!"

"Don't mind him. He's a numbskull. Anyway, what were we talking about again?"

The rest of the coffee date went by without a hitch. The two soon forgot about running into the proud Kuchiki and his manservant. They talked and laughed over old memories and made plans to meet up again soon. While Orihime left the café feeling refreshed from catching up with an old friend, Ichigo left, feeling more determined that he wanted to explore romantic territories with the unassuming doctor.

* * *

Byakuya crossed one slender leg lazily over the other as he thought back to the unexpected run-in with his sister's old classmate. He really should have just given his coffee order to Renji. If only he had not been suckered in to 'take a break' and make that short walk, he would not have had to see her again. Not that it was so bad to see her, but he had not been prepared for it; if nothing else, Byakuya liked having control. He frowned, remembering how she had feigned meeting him for the first time. Begrudgingly, he had to admit that she was professional about patient confidentiality. But, he was not her patient. He never signed the agreement. He wondered why she had not confronted him about his comments regarding her practice. Maybe, that woman never ended up telling her?


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: No updates for the next few weeks... On vacation! =)

* * *

The salty sea breeze felt good against his cheeks. With time, his eyes adjusted to the quiet darkness of the night. There may have been stars out, but above the metropolis, only the brightest of them could ever be seen; tonight, there were none. Being indoors and breathing recycled air all day, every day, these kinds of moments were his only reprieve. However, Byakuya did not often get to come to the beach. Spanning half of the city's coastline, it was constantly crowded with tourists and residents alike. If there was anything that he disliked more than air conditioning and stale air, it was the mindless chatter of crowds, especially children. Even in the wee hours, the beach was not deserted. He could discern the shadows of a few couples making out under the trees. In the distance, there were some drunken stragglers laughing in the water. He sighed. It seemed that silence was not only golden; it was mythical.

Again, his thoughts strayed to that chance encounter with that odd psychiatrist. He had been back to the same coffee shop twice since last seeing her, but he never did bump into her again. What a coincidence that she happened to know that idiot, Ichigo, too. When Rukia had met him in her first year of her undergraduate studies, he had disliked him then. The boy was impudent and loud. Now, years later, seeing him again, he thought that he would have matured, but apparently, he was still the same, perhaps just taller. He scowled, remembering how he had touched him so casually. Frowning, he wondered about his relationship to Orihime. Truthfully, he had no idea why he even wanted to see her again. After all, if he really wanted to, he could simply book another appointment. What was it about her that made him think about her? _That_ , in itself, stupefied him.

Standing up, he brushed the sand from his trousers and rolled up his pant legs. Peeling off his socks, he stuffed them into his pocket. Carrying his shoes, he made the short hike up the only cliff attached to this part of the beach. Few people bothered with the cliff because the waters just below were too rocky and dangerous for jumping. When he could not find solitude in the sands, the summit of the mossy bluff was his last resort.

He tossed his oxfords aside and stepped right up to the edge. The wind blew harder and colder at this height. Blending into the night, his hair lifted off his shoulders and billowed around him like a curtain, shielding him from his stresses and the world that he did not feel like he belonged in. He could feel the firmness of the cool surface beneath his feet. He inched further out, his toes gripping over the ends of the boulder. Instinctively, he raised his arms, palms facing forward, maximizing his body's surface area so that he could embrace still more of the darkness. He closed his eyes and relished the nighttime chill and tranquility.

"Please! Don't! Everything will be okay!"

Byakuya's eyes snapped open at the shrill voice calling from behind. Surprised, he stepped back and whirled around to find a petite woman reaching out her hand toward him. When she caught his eye, she jumped and appeared to shrink back into her spot. They recognized each other almost instantaneously.

"What did you think I was doing?" He raised an eyebrow at her, miffed by her erroneous supposition.

"I-I... Y-You... I..." She scratched her head and chuckled nervously when she had no response for him.

"I wasn't going to jump." He did not bother to hide the irritation in his voice.

"I'm sorry. Really! I didn't know it was you, and from the back, it looked like-"

"What are you doing here?" He cut her off curtly, displeased to have his peace interrupted, but more so, he had not anticipated _her_ of all people.

"I, um, come here sometimes."

"It's late. You're by yourself. How reckless."

"Me? You were the one who was standing on the edge of a rock doing the Titanic!"

"The... What?" He wanted to counter, but unfamiliar with the classic blockbuster, he did not know how to.

"Titanic? Jack? Rose? Never let go? Oh, wow..." She watched his face go from annoyed to confused, before returning to impassive.

Byakuya had no idea what she was referring to. He also did not quite care. Narrowing his eyes at her, he realized that she was pleasant to look at. He surmised that she probably had many suitors. Even in the dark, her long auburn locks glowed amber. Her eyes were grey like his were, but unlike his own, hers were warm and kind. She clearly had an appealing figure, but instead of flaunting it, she was modestly covered up in an oversized sweater and jeans.

Orihime blushed when Byakuya's intent gaze swept over her, sizing her up. It was not salacious. In fact, he had a look of mild curiosity as he eyed her, as if deciding whether or not she was a threat. Bumping into him was the last thing that she thought was going to happen. It had been a late night at the office; she was behind on some paperwork and the session with her last patient had been emotionally draining, even for her. Coming to the beach had been an attempt to reset, but for whatever reason, it was busier than she had anticipated. That was when she remembered the spot atop the cliff. Especially at this hour, she had not expected to find anyone else up here. Perhaps an occupational hazard, she was quick to leap to conclusions when she had seen his figure. Now, fully grasping their freak encounter, coupled with his unfamiliarity with Cameron's classic, she could not help but laugh aloud.

"What's so funny?"

"You. This. I don't know. I think I'm just tired." She wiped away a tear from the corner of one eye, giving him a big smile.

"That makes two of us." Facing away from her, he sat down, dangling his legs over the side of the escarpment.

"May I join you?" She moved beside him, not waiting for his answer.

For a long while, neither spoke. After a while, Orihime leaned back onto her elbows to stare up at the sky. Byakuya cast a sideways glance at her. He had not been prepared to see her again. Yet, again, they had chanced upon each other.

"You're not going to try to do your quack-thing on me?"

"No. Why would I?" She clasped her hands behind her head and lay down completely.

"Isn't that your job?"

"You're not my patient."

Byakuya considered her reply. It was technically true; he had not signed the patient agreement form and they had not actually finished the initial session. Then, this made her a stranger. No, she was an acquaintance since Ichigo had formally introduced them. He could not place it, but this knowledge of their relationship (or lack thereof) put him at ease.

"Are you not going to confront me about what I said about you?"

"Mr. Kuchiki," she turned to face him, "you're entitled to your opinion."

Byakuya's eyes widened, caught off-guard by her response. Did she actually think that he thought that about her? Suddenly, he felt bad.

"I must apologize. I never meant those words. My sister wouldn't leave me alone. I don't need a therapist. I just needed her off my back. So, I'm sorry." Not used to admitting fault, he was not sure if he had apologized adequately.

"It's fine. I'm not mad. But, why do you think she wants you to see a psychiatrist so badly?"

"She thinks there's something wrong with me. And there is. But, I don't need a doctor to tell me what it is."

"Oh? What's your self-diagnosis?" She cocked her head at him.

"I have a broken heart," he said, looking her straight in the eyes, completely serious.

Expecting some bogus answer, she was taken aback by his earnest response. She blinked back at him, momentarily at a loss for words. This poor man, she thought. She wanted to help him, but...How?

"You know, psychiatry and therapy have a bad rep, but it's really just a place for people to go where they can talk and work through some hard times."

"I think I prefer _this_ instead," he said, not looking at her. Letting his eyelids drop, he turned his face back towards the water.

"Yeah, this is nice," she agreed, smiling.

They remained quiet for the next few minutes, enjoying each other's company and the stillness of the night.

"So... You wanna talk about it?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"You trying to doctor me?" He frowned at her.

"We've already established that you're not a client. Then again, I guess I owe you some time since you overpaid your last session." She gave him a playful smile, pointedly making a jab at his last appointment when he had walked out after two minutes, but paid the full hour's compensation.

"You charge too much." He was grinning as he said this, but turned away from her, she never got to witness it.

She laughed, not insulted.

"I used to come here a lot... With Hisana," he paused, before adding, "I proposed to her here."

"My brother, Sora, used to bring me here..." Her voice cracked as it trailed off.

Byakuya opened, then closed his mouth. He had expected her to grill him with follow-up questions about his late wife. Instead, she was opening up to him. This woman was certainly intriguing.

"Why don't you come here with him anymore?"

"He passed away."

"I'm sorry," he said automatically. He realized that she had also had to deal with loss.

"So, believe me when I tell you that I know how you feel. You think you have to hold on to this grief because you're holding on to the person, but that's not healthy-"

"I don't care about healthy. My love for her is undying."

"Grief is not love. Overcoming grief doesn't mean you've stopped loving someone. You'll always have your memories. You are supposed to keep them in your heart and live a happy life so that your loved ones can watch over you and be at peace."

"That's _your_ interpretation."

Orihime glanced over at him, sensing his growing vexation. She hesitated before speaking, but decided that ultimately, he needed to hear her words.

"If you want to love her properly, then fix your heart. You said that it's broken. Doesn't Hisana deserve to be treasured and loved by a whole heart?"

She got up and patted her bottom down.

"Do you have your phone?" She held out her hand.

Reluctantly, he fished it from his pocket, unlocked it, and then passed it over. He watched as she punched in something before giving it back.

"That's my direct line. If you ever want to talk, use it," she paused, before playfully adding, "I won't even charge."

He watched her disappear down the side of the bluff, smirking at her last comment. He was glad that he was not her patient. _This_ was so much better.


End file.
